


Ina'lan'ehn Abelas

by Mushbear23



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Well of Sorrows (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-07-31 06:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20110828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mushbear23/pseuds/Mushbear23
Summary: 5 years after the Exalted counsel. The Veil has been torn down by Fen’Harel. The whole world was torn asunder. Only elvhen were left. All were immortal now. Now that her world  and loved ones are gone, she is lost. The Well her only friend.  She now resides in New Arlathan. Fen’Harel might have spared her life, but what was a life without friendship and love? Not a life at all. Solas, despite everything, still loves her. He knows that they cannot be, but he keeps her. Hoping that one day she will forgive him. He makes Abelas, longtime friend and general of his army, help her. If he cannot be what she needs, he hopes that Abelas can. He knows they both have deep sorrows and he wants them both to heal. Abelas, despite everything that has been accomplished, is lost. He has known only duty for so long that he no longer knows what to do now that duty is not needed. His purpose gone. He is shocked when his king and friend tells him that the inquisitor is alive, and even more astonished when he gives him the task of guarding her. He thought that there might have been a threat, that is, until he sees her. It was instant. He knew. Sorrow. How was he supposed to guard sorrow when he himself was sorrow?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A bre novena - A deep want  
Ir abelas - I am sorry
> 
> I hope that everyone enjoys this. I am pretty new to writing so constructive feedback would be appreciated. Thank you.

Abelas stood in front of his King, his friend, waiting. The summons had not been expected. He was just coming back from patrols through the city, mundane though they were. Conflict had been rampant after the Veil had been torn, although even that had been minimized throughout the last two years. The rebellion, if one could call it that, from the quicklings had swiftly and efficiently been dealt with. Most of the elves, now turned elvhen, once they realized that they were now free had celebrated the return of the Elvhenan. Fen’Harel’s plan had been perfectly executed. Now the only trouble had been the occasional squabble. Gone were the times where there were slaves. Everyone now had a voice.

So, it came as a brief surprise that he should be summoned at all. He knew of no conflicts that should warrant his presence. He could tell that something weighed heavily on his king. Somber grey eyes stared unseeing through him; brows pulled forward in deep thought and mouth pinched in a scowl. No, this was no normal summons.

“My lord,” he spoke, “you wished to speak to me?”

Eyes now steady, his king sighed, “Yes. How has our city faired?”

Now confused, Abelas said, “Nothing out of the ordinary… All has been quiet.”

“Good… that’s, good.”

After a few more moments of awkward silence, his king spoke again, “Abelas, my friend, you have served me well, and before that, you had served Mythal just the same. Your sense of duty and loyalty are commendable. But I wonder… do you have everything you want?”

Shocked and caught off guard, Abelas spoke carefully, “My lord, I’m not sure what you mean.”

Fen’Harel- no; he was Solas in this moment, looked at him full of sorrow, “I have often wondered, my friend, if I have done the right thing.”

Stunned, he waited in silence.

“You know how The People have, and always will, be my duty. But where does duty end?”

There were no words to describe the pain that crossed his friends face.

“So, I ask again, Abelas. Besides your duty, has there been anything you have wanted? _A bre novena_?”

Alarmed with the turn of the conversation, he spoke, “My Lord- “

“Solas please. We are alone, my friend. There is no need for posturing here.”

“…Solas. I have known no other life that that of duty. First to Mythal. Then to the Well, and now to you…”

“…And?” Solas asked

“…Nothing. Has captured me beyond that of my duty.”

Solas closed his eyes and sighed, “I was once like you. But there was a time, though brief, that almost swayed me from my duty…”

Surprised, he spoke his first though, “…The Inquisitor?”

He gasped when Solas opened his eyes. The pain, guilt and sorrow were so strong he almost stepped back.

“…Yes. Deah was- she was at first a slight annoyance. Then, a mystery. Then… more. Did you know, I almost turned from The People in my blind love for her?”

He was shaken. Solas, Fen’Harel, had loved that shem?

With a knowing smirk, Solas continued, “But, I came to my senses. As much as I loved her, I had a duty to The People. I was selfish. I wanted both, and because of my selfishness, her heart broke. Torn to shreds by the Dread Wolf. Since then she has endured. Lost.”

More silence.

“Even after all this time, after everything that we have been through and everything that I have done, I love her. But I also know that my love is no longer enough, if it ever was. She’ll never have me.”

His mouth hung open, “…She lives?”

Solas scoffed, his irritation apparent, along with his guilt, “…I couldn’t kill her.”

Silence. It felt like an eternity until he spoke again, “Where is she?”

The guilt apparent on his face, the sorrow in his eyes betraying him, Solas spoke, “She is here. In the palace.”

Frustrated, he asked, “And when was I to be informed of the prisoner? Am I not your general?”

Pride tsked, “She is not a prisoner. She has been free all this time.”

Confused again, he said, “I have not seen her. If she is free, then where has she been?”

“Since… since the Veil, she has refused to come out of her quarters. She has but one servant to help her with her various needs but…” he waived his hand in desperate frustration.

“…_Ir abelas_, my Lord, but I am still confused on why you have summoned me here.”

Solas stared hard at him, his jaw clenched, “I would like you to guard her.”

Sock. He was in shock.

Noticing his friend’s discomfort, Solas released his tension in one exhaled breath, and whispered brokenly, “She has become a shell Abelas. The once shining light that was her spirit is there no longer. She does not speak. She barely eats. She has even blocked me from her dreams. I… do not know what else to do. She will not see me. She will not hear me.”

Silence.

“I know…I know I cannot take back what I have done. And nor do I want to, but I cannot stand her to be this way anymore. What better way than to have sorrow guard sorrow?”

“…So, I am to just… guard her? From who? Does someone want to cause her harm?”

Solas smiled sadly, “Just herself.”

He did not know what to say. How was he to guard someone from themselves?

“If you want to think about this as a duty, the Well still resides in her. If you will not task this request as a friend, then I would like it to be an order to guard the well, if nothing else.”

Surprised, he asked, “She still has the Well?”

“The Well refused to leave her, my friend. We tried to put it back, but they are now one.”

“But that is im- “

“Impossible, I know. But so much of this world has been thought to be impossible. What’s one more?”

Pursing his mouth in concentration, “I will go.”

Solas smiled, albeit sad, “Thank you, my friend. She resides in the far corner of the east wing. Last door on the right.” He then stood slowly, his regal manner coming back to him in slow progress, “I know I can never be there for her. I know I can never love her as she needs. But I hope that, one day, she will forgive me. You are dismissed, Abelas.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ir abelas - I am sorry
> 
> Atishea ima minera’vun - Peace be with you this night
> 
> Thank you to those who have read this. I hope to get better the more I write!

Abelas stood outside her chamber, contemplating whether he should knock or stride right in. After a fashion he decided that knocking might garner a more polite response.

“My lady, may I enter?”

There was no response. He had expected that. If what his King said was true, then she would not be one to let him know his welcome.

After a minute of waiting he said, “I am entering, My Lady.”

He entered the room and quickly scanned the area. There was no sign of her. On alert, he strode forward and glanced over every section of the room. It looked as though it hadn’t been touched since it was created. The bed had been made, no wrinkles. The floor shiny and waxed. No precious baubles or trinkets. It was a sad room. An empty room. 

Without pause, he went over toward the balcony. The doors were open. As he stepped into the light he paused. She was there. Her small body was wrapped in a thin blanket, auburn hair shining and loose in the early evening, staring out into the sunset. There was no recognition that she knew he was there. Just silence.

“My Lady, I have been appointed your new guard.”

Silence. Nothing.

“My lady, Fen-“

It was like a switch. One moment there had been nothing, now there was a burst. Her magical aura swirled around her in fury. He noticed her eyes now were on him. Hard. Unyielding. Beautiful. Their emerald hue full of fire. This was not the same woman he had seen all those years ago. Her magic was far more. **She** was far more. He felt her **and** the Well. His King had been right. They were now one. Their magic had blended. He felt in her glare the message. He will not make that mistake again.

“_Ir abelas_, My Lady. I will not speak of him, should you not wish it.”

He felt the magic recede, felt her gaze sharpen even further. What must she be thinking? She was more open before. He remembered feeling her through her aura at the Well those years ago. Bright. Brighter than anything that he had seen since before the fall. Since his first master, Mythal lived. It was one of the many reasons he didn’t stop her from the Well, quickling though she was at the time. The Well knew too. He could feel its curiosity at the strange creature that was near it. But now, there was nothing. Just a steady, desolate aura. She was now like him. It saddened him.

She turned from him suddenly and looked back over toward the sunset.

“I will stand guard, My Lady. I will not speak further, unless you wish it. _Atishea ima minera’vun_.”

He vowed, then, that he would guard her forever should she wish it. It was his duty.

~~~~~~~~~

She felt him through the door before she entered. His aura the same, steady sorrow she felt from that time all those years ago. The Well knew too. They sang to her that he was trusted. That he was a friend. _Falon._ But she knew better. She knew the real reason that he had been stationed here. Abelas even spoke it; before she let her emotions get the better of her.

It was **him**. He knew as well as she did that she was stuck. There was no going back to what was. No going forward either. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone to her sorrow?

She felt him enter her room, halt, then steadily make his way over toward her perch on the balcony. Felt him pause as he assessed her. The Well was happy. She was not. They wanted to talk to him. They missed his presence. His steady aura. But she couldn’t. She just couldn’t. She would break if she let so much as a sound escape her lips. She knew. The Well knew too. But they were too excited at the presence of their old friend to remember. She was balanced on the edge of a blade. She was tired. She was hurt. She was sorrow.

After her explosion of emotion, where she almost spoke, almost broke, she stared at the man. He was tall, but then, so were most elvhen men she had ever come across. He had the same vallaslin as she remembered. The tree branches of Mythal bold on his face. She noticed that his eyes were a somber amber. She couldn’t remember if she noticed that from before. She was so distracted from Corypheus and another pair of eyes that she missed his. His strong angular face was beautiful, she realized.

She turned quickly from him. What was she thinking? This was Abelas. Her keeper. Her guard. Her** jailor**. She had no business noticing how attractive he was.

The Well approved. She scoffed in her mind. She would not fall for another man, no matter how handsome. She could not take another blow. She was broken.

As the stars settled into the night, she stayed there. There was no reason to go into the room. She would not sleep on the bed. How could she have that luxury when those she loved no longer could either?

She would allow Abelas to stay, she decided. After all, what choice did she have? The Well just hummed happily in her head.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Telsila da’vhenan. Sul ar ame min or amahn. (Do not worry little heart. For I am here.)
> 
> Numin or lahna or irlahna sule mar inan ane nis (Cry until your eyes are dry)
> 
> Ar’an avy bellanaris. Ar’an ane. (We will be forever. We are tied.)
> 
> Ma’arla. Ema’dhrua. (My home. Have faith.)
> 
> Diana mar vhenan I nehn. (Fill your heart with joy.)
> 
> Banal’rasen himathe to elea. (Shadows change to light.)
> 
> Ama mar nehn. Vara’mar abelas. (Keep your joy. Leave your sorrow.)

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. And months slowly turned into years. Neither of them spoke, content with the companionable silence.

The Well was disappointed in her refusal to talk to Abelas, but she was stubborn. She honestly had no idea why he was content to stay here with her. He was a Sentinel. A Commander at that. His duty should have been to guard their palace from attack. To help the People. Why he was content to stay here in silence with her was confusing.

She knew he didn’t like her. She remembered how he told her she wasn’t a true elvhen all those years ago. Even today, it still stung. It was ironic, honestly, that she was now one of them. What she would have given before everything to just have a taste of this. But now she knew; knowledge had a price. Everything had a price; even happiness.

It was a normal evening when she had had enough of the Well’s relentlessness regarding Abelas. Sighing in defeat, she turned and saw Abelas standing guard as he did every day on her balcony, “Abelas.”

He looked up and she couldn’t remember what she was going to say. His golden eyes pierced her with… something. He was so hard to read. She suddenly remembered Solas, before he turned into Fen’Harel. How his gaze would pierce through her soul while his face remained impassive. Were all ancients able to do this?

After more silence, he said quietly, “My Lady?”

She was stuck now. No longer could she stay silent, but she didn’t quite know what to say. His gaze was… nice. She shook her heard then said just as quietly, “Why are you here?”

More silence, his gaze unwavering, “I was told to guard you, My Lady.”

It couldn’t be that simple. Surely, he was miserable. Either that or there was something he needed from her… for **him**. She couldn’t trust him. She couldn’t trust anyone anymore.

Instead of saying anything more, she just nodded and continued her silence. The Well was trying to get her to say more. To talk. But she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. There was nothing more to say.

There was more silence, and then he surprised her when he said, “Was there anything else My Lady?”

She looked at him again, wondering what he was asking. Should she say something? Curiosity won out, and she decided that she would ask a question; but not one that he was prepared to answer, “What is your favorite flower?”

She knew she caught him off guard when he raised his eyebrows. That was the most expression she had seen from him… ever.

“Arbor Blessing.” He finally said. Interesting.

More silence. He surprised her, again, when he spoke next, “And yours?”

“Dawn Lotus.” She said eventually. She looked back over at him, and he looked as he always did. But… there was something different. She couldn’t explain what. She looked back at the sunset; wondering about the man who hadn't left her, and silence reined once more.

~~~~~~~~~

Abelas was confused. It had been years before she said something to him, and she asked him about his favorite flower? What had possessed her? He kept waiting for her to say something more. Anything. But her silence continued. 

It came as a pleasant surprise when the next evening she spoke again. She looked at him, her gaze piercing, “Abelas.”

“My Lady,” he replied.

“What is your favorite color?” she asked after a moment.

Again, he was caught off guard. Why would she need to know these things? But he was bound to serve her, so he answered, “Green.” It was a second later he realized that green was the color of her eyes.

Another beat of silence, him slightly uncomfortable with where his thoughts had turned, had him asking, “And yours?”

She looks thoughtful, then answers, “Gold.”

His face, impassive with years of training did nothing at the mention of her answer; but his heart skipped a beat. Gold. Her favorite color was gold. Suddenly he felt warm.

The night passed in silence again.

Days and weeks and months passed and every evening she would ask him a question. Favorite song. Favorite Poem. Whether he preferred day to night. Constellations that he knew. On and on it went. She would ask and he would answer. But he learned about her too. He learned that she detested cold but loved the snow. Learned that she missed the sea, seeing halla graze in the fields, hearing the music of the trees in the wind.

It was one such evening where instead of a question she was quiet. He waited until the stars shone in the sky, and when she was still silent, he asked, “My lady… are you well?”

She looked at him the, eyes full of sorrow and took a shuddering breath, “No.”

He did not know what to do. He knew sorrow only all too well. Knew that it could consume you. He did not know how to comfort her. He had never tried to do anything like that before. Wracking his knowledge from centuries past, he remembered a song his mother sang, when he was very young.

He started humming. Softly at first; then when she looked at him he sang softly:

_Telsila da’vhenan. Sul ar ame min or amahn. _

_Numin or lahna or irlahna sule mar inan ane nis _

_Ar’an avy bellanaris. Ar’an ane. _

_Ma’arla. Ema’dhrua. _

_Diana mar vhenan I nehn. _

_Banal’rasen himathe to elea. _

_Ama mar nehn. Vara’mar abelas. _

When he was done, she whispered brokenly, “That was beautiful.”

His body held still in shock when she faced him and then wrapped her arms around him in an embrace. His mind was blank. His arms frozen. Slowly, ever so slowly, he put his arms around her. She was warm. She was small. She smelled of warm sunshine and vanilla.

They stayed like that for minutes. Hours. He wasn’t sure. But it felt good. It felt right.

She leaned back and looked up at him, green eyes searching, “Can you hold me tonight?”

He couldn’t speak, only nod his head in acceptance.

He fell asleep that night feeling warm for the first time.


End file.
